


Honey, Hydra Shrunk Your Boy Toy

by moonythejedi394



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Artist Steve Rogers, Banter, Bucky Barnes as Captain America, Chastity Device, Comedy, Cute Steve Rogers, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom/sub, Domestic Bliss, Don't copy to another site, Grumpy Bucky Barnes, Happy Ending, Hydra (Marvel), Kidnapping, M/M, Master/Pet, Modern Steve Rogers, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Puppy Play, Restraints, Rope Bondage, Sex and Chocolate, Short & Sweet, Shrinking, Soft Dom Bucky Barnes, Sub Steve Rogers, The Bad Guys Are Dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-05-13 15:31:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19254025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonythejedi394/pseuds/moonythejedi394
Summary: Bucky Barnes is a super hero who likes his privacy. Steve Rogers is the world's smollest gay. The idiots that kidnap Steve think the shrinking ray they found will vaporize him and they can clone Captain America from a bucket of his blood. Suffice it to say, after the initial scare, they're okay, but they do have to live a few days with Steve being as big as a Barbie doll.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thepheonixqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepheonixqueen/gifts).



> _this fun piece was commissioned by thepheonixqueen!_

**_Honey, Hydra Shrunk Your Boy-Toy._ **

 

A slow, sleepy Sunday morning in Brooklyn. It’s half past eight in the morning on the 2nd of June and down the block, the choir of Church of the Virgin Mary is singing a truly tear-inspiring hymn in Latin. The effect is slightly lost due to distance, walls in between, and the rhythmic thud of the headboard hitting the wall.

 

For Steve Rogers, his slow, sleepy, lazy Sunday morning is starting the same way every morning starts, in principle. He’s on his belly with his knees bound to a spreader bar, his hands tied in front of him, and his mouth held forcefully shut by a vibranium hand. His eyes are rolling back, toes curling, and his ass is being pounded by a blissfully thick cock. It’s all surrounded by the choir song coming from the cathedral through the open living room windows and that gives the experience an almost other-worldly vibe.

 

It’s an excellent start to what will otherwise be a very strenuous day, to say the least.

 

“C’mon, doll,” Bucky pants, “tighten up for me one more time, clench on me, I’ll cum in you just like you want, baby.”

 

Steve whines under his hand so beautifully. His thoroughly stretched sphincter clenches barely, Steve whines again, and Bucky bites another spot just under his jaw.

 

“Good boy,” Bucky says, “that’s my good little doll, huh, baby? Gorgeous fuckin’ babydoll, all mine, all mine.”

 

Steve whimpers, a muffled moan. Bucky kisses his cheek and the tears leaking from the corner of his eye.

 

“Sweet little thing,” he purrs, “sweet little doll’a mine, fuck, you always feel so good on my cock, sweetheart, you wanna come for me?”

 

Steve nods, whining. Bucky kisses his ear and adjusts his angle to graze Steve’s P-spot a little harder; Steve gasps under his hand.

 

“Good boy,” Bucky repeats, kisses Steve’s jaw again and spreads his knees a little wider to give himself more leverage. “Good boy, babydoll, God, you’re such’a heavenly fuck, honey, ‘m gonna cum in you.”

 

Steve whines something that might be _“Please, sir!”_ Bucky’s babydoll is a slut for cum. Bucky grins against Steve’s neck, panting as he keeps up his unforgiving rhythm.

 

“You gonna be a good boy ‘n’ come on my dick?” he demands. “You can come, dollbaby, whenever you want –”

 

Steve gasps again. Bucky feels him go rigid and his hole tightens up just enough to feel like it’d strip the skin off his dick if there wasn’t so much lube. Bucky shoves his right hand under Steve’s tummy, grabs his sweet little cock, and pumps it as he comes. Steve whimpers under his hand and Bucky bites at his shoulder, doubling his efforts as he chases his own orgasm.

 

“God, you’re such a good little doll,” Bucky growls, “come right on command, doll, you make me so fucking proud, baby. I’m gonna fill you up, cum in you just like you like, you want that?”

 

“Mhmm!” Steve gets out from under Bucky’s hand, nodding vehemently.

 

“Fuck,” Bucky gasps, pressing his open mouth to the junction of Steve’s neck and shoulder. “Fuck, doll, fuck, you’re so damn good –”

 

He stops to groan, groans, and his hips stutter their rhythm. His brain whites out for a second, Bucky closes his mouth on Steve’s skin as he moans, and he fucks through the shocks of his orgasm. Steve moans, too, high and breathy like it was his own climax, and Bucky stills, panting, before grinding a few last times deep in Steve’s ass.

 

“Good little doll,” Bucky exhales, kissing Steve’s neck. “Fuck, you’re precious, baby.”

 

Steve hums. Bucky uncovers his mouth and pulls him into a kiss instead. Steve kisses back lazily, thoroughly fucked out. Bucky grins and reaches up and pops free the snap-lock fastening Steve’s wrist-cuffs to a strap and then to the headboard, then down and pops the same kinds of locks from the spreader bar attached to his thigh cuffs. He eases the pillow from beneath Steve’s hips, lies him flat on his belly, and then carefully plasters himself over Steve’s back and lets his weight settle onto him. Steve hums again and Bucky presses gentle kisses to Steve’s neck.

 

“My sweet babydoll,” Bucky purrs. “Feel good?”

 

Steve grins and nods slowly. Bucky kisses his cheek, then slides his arms under Steve and turns them onto their sides. He snuggles him close and sets about kissing every inch of his neck and shoulders.

 

“Should get up,” Steve mumbles some ten minutes later.

 

“Busy,” Bucky answers, loving on a hickey near his spine.

 

“Got work t’a get done,” Steve adds, yawning.

 

“Hmph,” Bucky says. “Sunday’s a day’a rest, doll.”

 

Steve giggles. He turns in Bucky’s arms to face him and, cupping his cheek, pulls Bucky into a soft kiss. Bucky hugs Steve close and when the kiss ends, nuzzles their noses together.

 

“Got work,” Steve repeats.

 

“Got plans,” Bucky says. “Can you work if I lock you up, baby?’

 

Steve snorts. “What’re you lockin’ up?”

 

“This pretty cock a’course,” Bucky purrs, sliding a hand down Steve’s tummy to cup it. “Wouldn’t want you gettin’ distracted from your work.”

 

“‘Course not,” Steve answers softly.

 

“You want the cage, babydoll?” Bucky asks.

 

Steve nods, pulling Bucky into another kiss. Bucky grins and closes his fist around Steve’s cute little cock, enjoying how his baby whimpers softly for him.

 

“Alright,” Bucky mutters, “up.”

 

Steve sighs as Bucky detaches from him, pouts a little when Bucky pulls out, but Bucky has plans for that, too. He rolls sideways and opens his nightstand drawer, twisting his spine to look while his hips stay angled towards Steve. He takes out Steve’s cock cage, a packet of surgical lube, a small metal butt plug, and a leather harness with four padlocks; Bucky wears the key to those locks on a chain around his neck at all times. The plug’s end has a metal ring on it and the harness has a strap to go between the asscheeks with a riveted hole to fit on the plug’s ring for a padlock and the front is designed to wrap around a chastity device. It, in short, keeps Steve locked up just how Bucky likes; so no one and nothing can touch his doll.

 

Steve sees the belt and the plug and grins. Bucky gives him a quick kiss, then picks up his knee, pulling it back, and takes the metal plug in hand, putting it against Steve’s hole.

 

“Cold,” Steve gasps.

 

Bucky kisses his cheek. “It’ll warm up, baby.”

 

Steve whines as Bucky teases the plug’s tip against his hole. Bucky chuckles, kisses his cheek again, then slides the plug into him. Steve lets out a little whine and Bucky circles his fingers around Steve's rim, nuzzling his neck. He picks up the cage then, and while Steve shivers in his arms, Bucky rips open the packet of lube to coat the hollow urethral sound. He kisses Steve’s cheek, then gently slides the sound into Steve's slit, bringing the ball-stopper flush with the tip of his cock. Steve squirms, whines some more, and Bucky kisses him placatingly. He follows the sound with the cage, connects the parts, and puts the pin through the latch.

 

"There," Bucky murmurs, kissing Steve's cheek gently, "ready for the belt?"

 

Steve nods quickly. Bucky unfastens the straps of the harness, slips the belt around Steve's waist, then tucks the strap between his legs. He pulls the plug's ring through the slot, then slips a padlock through it and latches it. The strap splits in two just under Steve's sack and Bucky pulls the two pieces up to wrap around the belt. The ends of each strap tuck through a loop in the belt and riveted holes line up, for Bucky to put padlocks through. Last, he takes the final padlock and puts it through the pin holding Steve’s cage in place. It clicks and Steve lets out a soft sigh.

 

"Good baby," Bucky says, "you're all ready for your day, doll. You wanna get dressed?"

 

In answer, Steve turns his head and presses their lips together. Bucky grins against the kiss, wraps his arms around Steve's middle, then pulls him up and lifts him off the bed onto his feet. Steve snorts a laugh and Bucky gives him a little push towards the dressers.

 

"Go get some shorts and one of my shirts," he says. "Comfy shorts, doll."

 

Steve nods and walks off, his padlocks clinking just a little. Bucky smiles, watching him, then pushes off the bed and stretches his arms over his head. He yawns, then walks to his dresser and opens drawers.

 

He gets dressed quickly; just boxers, jeans, and socks for now. Bucky turns when he's done and crosses the room to where Steve is digging through a drawer in his dresser.

 

"Can't find my NYU shorts," Steve says.

 

"They're in the laundry," Bucky says, propping an elbow on the dresser. "Wear the sweats."

 

Steve shrugs and tugs out his NYU track pants. Bucky takes them from him, kneels, and shakes out the pants for him. Steve grabs Bucky's shoulders and steps into them. Bucky lifts them up Steve's legs and settles the waistband at his navel, pausing to press a firm kiss to Steve's soft tummy. Steve giggles, Bucky's beard probably tickles, and Bucky gets up again to kiss Steve's nose. Steve wrinkles it smiling.

 

"Go get a shirt," Bucky says, patting Steve's waist. "I gotta pick up groceries, doll."

 

"Hey, can you take Parm?" Steve asks as Bucky turns away.

 

"Aw, honey," Bucky groans, "he's a fussy brat, I can't take him to the store!"

 

"He needs exercise!" Steve insists. "Besides, you like fussy brats!"

 

Bucky looks flatly at him. Steve sticks out his bottom lip.

 

"Ugh," Bucky declares. "Quit the puppy eyes, I'll do it."

 

"Thank you!" Steve says, jumping onto his toes to kiss Bucky's cheek. "I'll give you head when you get home?"

 

Steve looks so eager, Bucky's not even sure Parmesan really _needs_ to be walked. He chuckles and nods and Steve kisses his cheek again. Bucky gives him a gentle shove towards the dresser again. Steve laughs and opens Bucky's T-shirt drawer, yanking out two automatically. Bucky takes one, kisses Steve's cheek, and puts it on.

 

"Get lots done while I'm out," Bucky says, pulling the shirt over his gut. "Call me if you need anything, alright?"

 

"Yes, sir," Steve says with a smile, lifting onto his toes again.

 

Bucky gives him a kiss, then grabs his phone and wallet, before he opens their bedroom door. Ginger, their cat, streaks inside immediately and vanishes under the bed. Bucky raises his eyebrows, but dismisses it.

 

"Parmesan!" he calls, then whistles. "C'mere, kiddo!"

 

He hears claws scrabbling on the floor, then Parmesan, a very squat Welsh Cardigan Corgi, barks as he comes running out of the kitchen. He dances around Bucky, wagging his tail violently.

 

"Settle," Bucky snaps. "Go get your lead!"

 

Parmesan barks and runs off again. Bucky walks into the hallway, picks up his running shoes, and plops onto the floor to put them on. Parmesan runs back into the hallway, his leash in his mouth, and runs right into Bucky's knee. He bounces back with a startled bark.

 

"Well, that was stupid," Bucky remarks. "C'mere."

 

He takes the leash and clips it to Parmesan's collar. The dog immediately starts dancing excitedly again. Bucky pushes off the floor with a grunt, then grabs a light jacket and pulls it on. He takes a glove from the pocket and covers his left hand with it, before tugging on a Mets cap and putting on sunglasses.

 

Steve's leaning on the doorway into the living room. Bucky gives him a wave and Steve blows a kiss. Bucky catches it, grinning, and holds it to his chest. Steve grins back before strolling into their office.

 

"Come on," Bucky says, grabbing the grocery cart from beside the door and his keys from the hook. "Walkies."

 

Parmesan barks as Bucky opens the door. Bucky puts the lead in his right hand, pulling the cart with his left.

 

Bucky walks the dog the couple of blocks to their local grocery store. Outside, he picks Parmesan up and puts him into the grocery cart, admonishing him to be quiet. Parmesan falls asleep, which is typical. Bucky spends a fortune on groceries, helps the cashier get everything into Steve's reusable bags, and picks the dog back out of the cart before carefully loading all the groceries into it.

 

He's gone about two and a half hours, barely 20 minutes away on foot. It's fucking stupid how clueless Bucky is that whole time.

 

*

 

Steve gets a little airheaded every time Bucky puts him in chastity and locks him up like this. After Bucky heads out, Steve sits down at his desk, puts on some lo-fi, and starts sketching another page in his current project; a kid's book on big cats. He hums along with the music and generally pays zero attention to anything.

 

Then there's a knock at the door. Steve puts his tablet down, looking around dumbly, then the knock comes again and he gets up. Steve heads for the front door and switches on the surveillance TV by the front door, clicking through the feeds until it stops on the front door. There's a guy in a green uniform holding a big bunch of roses.

 

Steve actually says "Aw!" and opens the front door.

 

"Delivery for a Steve Rogers," the uniform says.

 

"That's so sweet," Steve answers, taking the roses and smelling them. "Do I gotta – sign…"

 

Steve trails off as his vision blurs. The delivery person grins.

 

"No signature necessary, Mr. Rogers," they say, "have a nice nap."

 

"Fuck," Steve gasps, stumbling away from the door.

 

He tries to shut it and the uniform forces it open. Steve grabs wildly for the surveillance system, for a panic button on the keyboard, but falls to the ground, his fingers slipping uselessly over the button and failing to press it. Dazed, Steve watches the attacker take out a walkie and depress a button.

 

"I got him," they say.

 

Steve blacks out.

 

*

 

Bucky hears sirens a few blocks away from home. Parmesan whines and he picks the dog up, tucking him under his arm. Then a cop car goes whizzing past him and Bucky gets worried. He breaks into a run, the cart clattering along behind him and Parmesan whimpering under his arm. Bucky turns the corner to his block and skids to a stop, mouth wide open.

 

His house is on fire. On fire. There are fire trucks and ambulances and police cars and his neighbors are gathered in the street. Bucky breaks into another run, heading for the cop addressing the crowd in the street.

 

"Steve!" Bucky shouts. "Steve?!"

 

"James!" Mrs. Rhinehart steps into his vision. "I have your cat!"

 

She thrusts Ginger towards Bucky; Ginger yowls in complaint.

 

"Where's Steve?" Bucky demands, grabbing Ginger a little less gently than he should.

 

"I thought he was with you?" Mrs. Rhinehart says.

 

"No," Bucky says, then presses Ginger back into her arms and side-steps her. "Hey! Officer!"

 

The cop stops talking and turns; Bucky pushes and shoves to get to him.

 

"My partner's still in there!" Bucky says. "We live on the top floor apartment, he's got asthma, he might be unconscious –"

 

"Sir, we've cleared the building," the cop starts.

 

"He's not out here!" Bucky snaps. "Five foot tall, about a hundred thirty pounds, blonde ––"

 

"We cleared the building," the cop repeats, louder this time. "Our guys found a cat in the top floor and no humans."

 

"But ––" Bucky says, then turns on his heel. "Steve?! Anybody seen Steve?!"

 

"No!" Mr. Hughes from the floor below them shouts back.

 

"Not since yesterday!" Ms. Vanessa adds.

 

"Where the hell is he?" Bucky demands.

 

"Not inside," the cop swears.

 

Bucky looks around in desperation. Parmesan starts howling and Bucky stuffs him inside his jacket, muffling the poor thing's ears.

 

"I'll call him!" Mrs. Rhinehart offers, taking out her phone.

 

"I'll call," Bucky says quickly. "Thank you. Could you take –?"

 

Ms. Vanessa takes Parmesan from Bucky and wraps a throw blanket around him so he won't squirm away. Bucky yanks out his phone and unlocks it with his fingerprint, then presses the icon for Steve's number on his homescreen and puts the phone to his ear. He turns around, searching for Steve's pale face or his hair, but doesn't see him.

 

The line rings for a while. Bucky looks back up at the building, panic rising in his throat.

 

_"Hi, you've reached Steve Roger's at –"_

 

Bucky hangs up and shoves past the cop. Someone shouts at him, but Bucky ducks yellow tape and runs for the smoking front door. Firefighters yell at him and Bucky ignores them; he covers his mouth with his arm and sprints up the stairs; there's flames on the third floor, but the real blaze is on the top, just outside Bucky's apartment. The stairwell is black with char marks and soot, his front door is broken down completely. Bucky has to run through a patch of flame to get inside, but he doesn't feel anything.

 

"Steve!" Bucky shouts inside. "Doll, answer me!"

 

Bucky only hears yelling from outside. Coughing, he shoves his way into the office, then runs into the kitchen and grabs the fire extinguisher. There's flames in the front hallway, but most of it looks doused already. Bucky empties the can, spraying everything within his doorway, then he stomps out a couple of spurts on the doorstep. There's nothing but ash where the doormat was and all of their shoes have been reduced to melted skeletons. There are black marks all over the floor and walls and Bucky recognizes pour patterns.

 

"Hey!" he hears behind him. "Sir, you gotta get outta here!"

 

Bucky reaches into the office and picks up his shield just as two firefighters appear in the doorway. Both of them stop at the sight of the shield.

 

"My partner is missing," Bucky says angrily. "He's not outside, he's not in here."

 

"Your partner?" one of the firefighters repeats. "Like… the Falcon?"

 

"Can't he fly?" the other says.

 

"Not the – My boyfriend!" Bucky snaps.

 

"Captain America is gay?" the first firefighter says stupidly.

 

"Ohmygod," Bucky hisses. "Who searched my place? You're sure he's not here?"

 

"Yes, sir!" the second firefighter says. "Top to bottom, dragged the cat out from under the bed."

 

Bucky looks around again, not knowing what to do. Steve is missing. He's gone.

 

"Maybe he went out?" one of the firefighters suggests.

 

"We should get out," the other says. "Please, sir."

 

Bucky nods. The firefighters step back for him and Bucky covers his mouth again as he walks past the fire still clinging to the front wall. He's ushered back down the stairs, back outside, and Bucky stands in front of the flaming building, his shield hanging at his side as he stares at nothing hopelessly.

 

"James!" Mrs. Rhinehart calls as she bustles over with Ginger clutched to her chest. "I tried calling Steven, but he's not answering!"

 

Bucky drops down onto the curb and takes out his phone. He unlocks it, hits Steve's icon, and puts it to his ear again. It rings.

 

"I'm sure he's alright," Mrs. Rhinehart insists.

 

The line clicks, but it's not voicemail. Bucky jumps to his feet.

 

"Steve!    " he shouts. "Honey, where –"

 

_"Hello, Captain,"_ an unfamiliar voice cuts Bucky's sentence off.

 

"Who is this?" Bucky demands.

 

_"I am a representative of some old friends of yours; Hydra?"_

 

"What the fuck have you done with him?" Bucky snarls. "Where are you? You lay one finger on Steve, I'll rip your –"

 

_"Let's not be hasty,"_ the voice on the other end of the call interrupts again. _"He is unharmed, he's only sleeping."_

 

"Tell me where you are so I can disembowel every fucking one of you!" Bucky shouts. "You'll be prayin' your mama's had aborted every one of you pieces of shit when I'm through with you!"

 

_"We'll call back with instructions soon,"_ the voice says with a sleazy chuckle. _"Once you've had a chance to calm down, Captain."_

 

"Don't you hang up!" Bucky yells.

 

The line clicks. With a shout of rage, Bucky spins on his heel and plants his metal fist into the side of a mailbox. It puts a sizable dent in the side.

 

There's a crowd gathered around him now; Mrs. Rhinehart looks horrified and Ms. Vanessa is covering her mouth.

 

"We got a kidnap situation?" a burly cop with a walrus mustache observes.

 

Bucky lifts his phone again, then swears violently when he sees the screen shattered. He'd squeezed it too hard again. Mrs. Rhinehart squeaks and Bucky rounds on the cop who'd spoken.

 

"Gimme a phone," he snaps.

 

The cop scrambles to take out his own phone, unlocks it, and hands it over. Bucky brings up the dial screen and types in Stark's number from memory, then hits call.

 

He presses it to his ear and puts his other hand on his hip while it dials. Bucky scowls as it rings on and on and Stark fails to answer.

 

"C'mon!" Bucky hisses.

 

And the line clicks.

 

_"Hello,"_ Stark answers in his annoying voice.

 

"I need you to track a cell phone," Bucky says without preamble. "Seven one nine –"

 

_"Hold on, hold on, who is this?"_

 

"Barnes!" Bucky snaps. "I need a local on a cell phone, now!"

 

_"Ohh, what for?"_

 

"I will crush your testicles with my shield, Tin Man," Bucky snaps. "Seven one nine, eight eight six, zero nine zero one!"

 

_"Jesus, where's the fire?"_

 

"In my house!" Bucky shouts.

 

_"Oh, shit."_

 

"Tell me you can locate his phone," Bucky demands. "Please."

 

_"It's turned off."_

 

"So turn it on!" Bucky snaps.

 

_"Okay, okay, I'm hacking as I talk! Uh, out of curiosity, who am I locating?"_

 

"Steve Rogers," Bucky says, covering his face with a hand.

 

He hears the cops now calling dispatch, reporting the kidnap and calling for back up. Bucky is in a daze.

 

_"Right, right. And who is Steve Rogers and why is he important?"_

 

"Just do it," Bucky snaps. "Hydra has him."

 

_"Hydra like –"_

 

"Hydra," Bucky repeats sharply. "Call every else, Stark, I'll be at the tower in 15."

 

He hangs up. Bucky grabs the owner of the phone and spins the guy around, shoving the phone at him.

 

"I need a ride to Stark Tower," he orders. "Now."

 

"Silinsky!" the cop yells. "Give Captain America a ride uptown!"

 

A kid salutes and runs for a patrol car. Bucky just follows him.

 

"With sirens," Bucky says as he gets in. "Step on it."

 

"Yes, sir," Silinsky answers hastily.

 

Bucky covers his face with his right hand. The sirens turn on and the car starts, moving at a cautious pace at first and then speeding up before Bucky can think to snap at the kid. Bucky just covers his face.

 

This is his fault. He never should’ve left Steve alone. Not alone, not defenseless, not needy like he knew Steve got when he was locked up in chastity. Steve had done nothing to deserve this. Bucky’s shield put a target on his back, too. Bucky never should’ve involved Steve with him in the first place.

 

Silinsky drives through several red lights, obeying Bucky’s order to step on it. They get from north Brooklyn to Midtown Manhattan within 20 minutes and Silinsky accidentally jumps the curb when he pulls up beside the entrance to Stark Tower. Bucky gets out without a word, his shield on his left arm, and strides up to the doors. People jump out of his way. Security guards inside get out of his way, too, and Bucky goes straight for the elevator up to Stark’s personal floors.

 

Stark’s waiting outside the elevator when it opens.

 

“So –” he starts.

 

“Where is he?” Bucky demands.

 

“Rogers?” Stark answers, quickly walking backwards as Bucky steps off the elevator. “He’s somewhere on Staten Island –”

 

“I need an exact address _now!_ ” Bucky snaps. “And some guns, whatever you’ve got.”

 

“Whoa, whoa!” Stark says, grabbing Bucky’s shoulders and stopping him mid-stride. “What the hell is going on? Who is this guy and why are you going after him with guns?! I need answers!”

 

“I’m going after his kidnappers with guns,” Bucky snaps.

 

“Who is Rogers?” Stark demands.

 

Bucky lets out an angry breath. “He’s my partner,” he admits. “I took the dog for a walk to get some groceries and when I got home, the place was on fire and he was gone.”

 

“Oh,” Stark says in a flat voice. “Yikes. You have a boyfriend?”

 

“I called him and his kidnapper answered the phone,” Bucky continues, “they claimed to be part of Hydra, said they’d call again with instructions later.”

 

“Okay,” Stark says. “That’s bad. I’m trying to pinpoint the location on the phone, but there’s something in the area that’s weakening the signal, all I’ve got is the nearest cell towers.”

 

“I need better,” Bucky tells him. “I need better now, Stark –”

 

“I get it, I get it!” Stark interrupts him quickly. “Come on, I’ll show you the works. I got a recording of the call from your cell provider and I’m analyzing it to see if there’s any clues as to where they are.”

 

Bucky lets Stark pull him into the lab. Normally, Bucky hates Stark’s lab; it’s too big and echoey and too metal. Right now, he doesn’t care.

 

“Do we have backup?” he asks.

 

“Wilson’s on his way,” Stark says. “Bruce says he’ll go, but urban areas, Hulk –”

 

“Yeah, I get it,” Bucky says quickly.

 

“Romanoff and the twins are here, too,” Stark adds, “they’ll be walking in any second now.”

 

“Good,” Bucky answers. “Wherever they are, we have to get in quietly, I don’t wanna spook these guys.”

 

“Fair enough,” Stark says. “I’ll have Bruce stay back and keep FRIDAY company then.”

 

“Show me the area the cell towers cover,” Bucky orders.

 

Stark brings up a 3D map of Staten Island on a large computer. The cell towers light up red, then their radiuses appear in red as well; there are four of them and the overlap is too large for a specific location.

 

“They didn’t go far,” Stark says, pointing to the map. “They’re somewhere along South Beach, but like I said, something’s dampening the signal.”

 

“The recording –” Bucky tries.

 

“Yeah, I got that,” Stark agrees, dismissing the map and bringing up an audio file instead. “There’s not a lot in the background, some echoes and wildlife in the ambient –”

 

“If there’s not a lot, they gotta be somewhere quiet, right?” Bucky interrupts.

 

“Yeah, I thought that,” Steve says, then isolates a peak in the background audio. “They’ve got a white noise machine going, so it could be that they’re just somewhere with thick walls.”

 

“Dammit,” Bucky hisses.

 

“I’m working on isolating the background,” Stark says quickly. “And you said these guys were gonna call back? When they do, we can triangulate the call as it’s happening –”

 

“I don’t want to have to _wait_ for them to call back!” Bucky cuts him off in an angry shout.

 

“James.”

 

Bucky turns on his heel to see Romanoff walking in, the Maximoff twins trailing behind her. All three of them look apprehensive, though Pietro has curiosity in his eyes.

 

“Kidnap situations usually follow the same pattern,” Romanoff continues. “The kidnappers make initial contact, then the second contact gives demands and ransom directions. There’s no logical reason to harm the kidnapped victim –”

 

“This is _Hydra,_ ” Bucky snaps. “There’s no logical reason for them to exist at all, considering you and SHIELD promised me they were wiped out!”

 

“It may very well be a group of copycats,” Romanoff replies calmly. “Simply trying to revive it –”

 

“And if it’s not?” Bucky demands.

 

“You know as well as I do that that can’t be,” Romanoff insists. “Alright, you went _with_ me to piss on Pierce’s grave, whatever this is, it’s not Hydra!”

 

Bucky glowers. “They have Steve,” he says in a quiet voice.

 

“Who the hell is Steve?” Romanoff counters.

 

“His boyfriend,” Stark answers.

 

“Yes,” Bucky sighs, “yeah, there it is, I’m gay, alright, and _someone_ claiming to be Hydra, a group that has been my actual nemesis for years, has kidnapped my boyfriend!”

 

“Wow,” Pietro whispers.

 

“And we don’t know where he is!” Bucky shouts.

 

“The kidnappers are going to call you,” Stark reminds him.

 

Bucky freezes. “I smashed my phone,” he admits.

 

Stark blinks at him. “You _smashed_ your phone?”

 

“I dented a mailbox and clenched my hand with the phone in it,” Bucky snaps, “I didn’t _intend_ to smash it.”

 

Stark claps a hand over his face. He drops onto a rolling stool, shoves off the centerpiece computer, and rolls to a stop by a stack of drawers. He opens it, takes out a phone, rolls to another computer and plugs it in.

 

“What are you doing?” Bucky calls.

 

“I’m reactivating your number on this phone!” Stark says. “So the kidnappers can actually call you!”

 

“Do you just have extra phones on hand for me?” Bucky asks exasperatedly.

 

“I have extra phones for every person,” Stark says.

 

“Ohmygod,” Bucky sighs.

 

Stark unplugs the phone, kicks off, and rolls back to Bucky. He holds out the phone. Bucky powers it on and watches the Sprint logo wave cheerfully at him. Bucky stares at it. The phone continues loading. Bucky covers his face with a hand.

 

“So, where do we think Cap’s kidnapped boyfriend is?” Pietro asks.

 

“Staten Island,” Stark says.

 

“Yikes,” Pietro says.

 

“What’s wrong with Staten Island?” Stark counters.

 

“People!” Bucky shouts.

 

“Right, right, atmosphere,” Stark says. “Uh, so, plan right now is to wait for the kidnappers to call again –”

 

“Plan right now,” Bucky interrupts, “is for me to steal the new prototype of Wilson’s wings and tear Staten Island to the ground –”

 

“That is a terrible plan,” Stark insists.

 

Bucky’s new phone dings and his lock screen pops up. Bucky squints at it.

 

“How does it have _my_ lock screen?” he demands.

 

“You have lots of cloud opt-ins,” Stark says dismissively, “I just downloaded everything Sprint had on you onto that.”

 

Bucky glares at the phone for a second, feeling distantly annoyed that he’d let Steve set up his phone, because he dislikes anyone having this much information on him. Steve’s grinning face looking at him doesn’t help.

 

And then the phone lights up with Steve’s contact. Bucky shouts for quiet unnecessarily and answers the call. Stark shoves his chair rolling again and starts doing something hacker-ish and scientific at yet another computer.

 

_“Hello again, Captain,”_ the sleazy voice says.

 

“I want to talk to Steve,” Bucky demands.

 

_“And here he is,”_ the sleazy voice answers.

 

_“I popped one of their testicles!”_ Steve shouts. _“I’m okay, they’re not!”_

 

Bucky falls into a chair with relief. “Baby, I’m coming,” he says, “don’t worry, I’m on my way.”

 

_“You are not on your way,”_ the sleazy voice insists. _“Here are my terms –”_

 

Stark shoves his chair rolling again and suddenly all the computers in the lab start flashing _FOUND THEM!_ in big red letters. Bucky jumps up again as Stark types something into another computer, then a rack of weapons descends from the ceiling.

 

_“We want a gallon of your blood!”_ the sleazy voice is saying as Bucky loads up on sub-machine guns. _“No less, Captain, and if it is not yours, we will start cutting off your precious boy toy’s fingers!”_

 

“A gallon of my blood,” Bucky repeats, “you realize that would be all the blood in my body?”

 

_“Exactly!”_ the sleazy voice laughs.

 

Stark points to a monitor; it says _Quinjet._ Bucky nods and Stark starts leading the way out.

 

_“We want a jet from SHIELD,”_ the sleazy voice continues, _“Director Fury’s eyepatch, the Iron Man Mark 5 armor, and a lock of the Black Widow’s hair.”_

 

“I can do that,” Bucky agrees, rolling his eyes. “Where do I meet you?”

 

_“At the Statue of Liberty at midnight tonight.”_

 

“Done,” Bucky agrees.

 

_“And we want ten million dollars.”_

 

“Done,” Bucky repeats. “Anything else?”

 

_“That is all, Captain.”_

 

“Fine, midnight,” Bucky says, climbing into the Quinjet with the twins and Romanoff behind him. “I want to talk to Steve again.”

 

_“No, you’ve had enough. We will see you tonight, Captain.”_

 

“I wanna talk to Steve!” Bucky shouts.

 

The line clicks. Bucky grumbles a blue streak under his breath and shoves the phone into his pocket.

 

“Ten minutes,” Stark calls from the cockpit. “Hey, what did they want?”

 

“Bullshit,” Bucky says, flopping into a seat. “Kid, put your seatbelt on.”

 

Pietro glares at Bucky. Wanda snaps her fingers and his seat belt does itself.

 

“Told you,” Romanoff says unhelpfully.

 

“Shuddup,” Bucky mutters.

 

“These guys are clearly idiots,” Romanoff insists.

 

“They were smart enough to get into my place, cart off my partner, and get off the scene before cops showed up,” Bucky counters.

 

“And you found them within an hour,” Romanoff says. “Your boy’s fine, right?”

 

Bucky nods shortly.

 

“Could be worse,” Romanoff says.

 

Ten minutes later and Stark is landing the jet on the roof of an abandoned fishery. There’s no activity outside and Bucky can hear squat inside.

 

“Thermal shows eleven people,” Stark reports. “One of ‘em’s in the fetal position, pretty small, that’s gotta be your boy, Barnes.”

 

“Pietro,” Bucky starts to say.

 

“On it,” Pietro replies.

 

Bucky sits down on the edge of the roof, looking down at the fire escape below them. Romanoff vanishes alongside Pietro while Stark walks on the toes of his boots to stand near Bucky and Wanda.

 

Pietro comes back a second later. “Yep, ten guys with guns, one blonde in sweats and duck tape. But he’s on some platform with some big ass gun pointing at him.”

 

“Wanda –” Bucky starts to give out directions.

 

“Captain America!” the sleazy voice suddenly booms across the fishery and empty parking lot. “You found us, well done! Come any closer and we will reduce your boy toy to ash!”

 

Bucky clenches a fist.

 

“I can go knock some heads?” Pietro suggests.

 

“I can go messing with some heads,” Wanda adds.

 

“Come down here!” the sleazy voice booms.

 

“No risks,” Bucky says. “Come on.”

 

They take the fire escape down. Romanoff is still out of sight, probably has managed to climb into the rafters by now. Bucky leads the group to a set of garage doors, then stops in front of them.

 

“You got me!” he shouts. “Give him back!”

 

The garage doors groan and then rattle as the mechanisms start up. They roll up slowly and reveal the kidnappers, standing at attention with rifles aimed at Bucky and his companions.

 

Steve bound and gagged in their center, lying on his side on top of a glass platform. He’s dirty, his hair is streaked with soot and grime, and he looks equally pissed and afraid. One of the ten gunmen is on the ground, blood on his crotch. Bucky would be proud of Steve if he had the capacity to be anything other than generally terrified.

 

    “Have a look at this!” the owner of the sleazy voice, an equally sleazy looking man, points to what Bucky presumes is the big ass gun Pietro was talking about. “Isn’t it amazing what you can find abandoned in forgotten places, Captain?”

 

He spots Romanoff squatting on a rafter above the kidnappers’ heads. She’s got a handful of Widow’s Bites primed and Bucky flicks his gaze back down to the group.

 

“You’ve got five seconds to surrender,” he says.

 

“It takes two seconds to turn this on!” the sleazy leader counters. “I don’t know what it does, but I doubt it is pleasant!”

 

“Five,” Bucky snarls.

 

“There’s a very inviting big red button!” the leader answers through a megaphone.

 

“Four!” Bucky shouts.

 

“I will not harm your boy if you surrender to us!” the sleazy leader yells into the megaphone.

 

“One!” Bucky yells.

 

Romanoff throws her Widow’s Bites.

 

“We’re so scared!” the sleazy leader says, just before a Bite attaches to his forehead.

 

All ten men light up with electricity and start convulsing, falling to the ground, and screaming in pain. Bucky strides forward and kicks one of them out of the way.

 

“No!” the sleazy leader hisses through the megaphone.

 

“You lost!” Bucky shouts at him.

 

The leader slaps at something at the control panel of the big ass gun. Bucky breaks into a run as the big ass gun starts to whine, he thinks he’ll be able to scoop Steve up and out of the way, and then there’s a brilliant flash of white light. Bucky is momentarily blinded, and then he stops, blinking spots out of his vision as he stares at the platform.

 

Steve’s bindings and clothes lie hollow on the glass surface.

 

“NO!” Bucky shouts and sprints forward.

 

He lands on his knees on the platform, but Steve is gone. He’s gone. The collar Bucky left him in lies upside down beside the neckline of the shirt Steve had been wearing, his hearing aids lie one inside the collar and one out. Romanoff drops onto the platform next to Bucky and Stark appears on his side. Bucky’s heart is no longer beating.

 

“No,” he whispers.

 

“Shit,” a squeaky voice announces.

 

Bucky sits back, then does a double take and rubs at his eyes. He looks again and there is a _miniscule_ hand poking out of Steve’s clothes.

 

“I can’t see!” the squeaky voice shouts. “Bucky!”

 

Bucky picks at the hem of Steve’s shirt with a thumb. He lifts it, then gasps.

 

Steve is not gone, he’s suddenly just ten inches tall. And naked. Bucky scrambles to scoop Steve up and quickly brings him to his chest; Steve screams and Bucky cups him against his shirt, his heart now racing and his breath coming out fast.

 

“Bucky!” Steve screams. “Why are you big?!”

 

“Wow,” Romanoff says.

 

“Ohmygod,” Bucky whispers.

 

“Honey,” Stark announces in a steadied voice, “Hydra shrunk your boy toy.”

 

“What?” Steve yells. “What’s going on?”

 

Bucky cups his hand over his palm to shield Steve from view, then lifts his hand up to eye-level. Steve blinks at him, huddled in Bucky’s metal palm and clearly shivering.

 

“You shrunk,” Bucky says dumbly.

 

“What the fuck!” Steve yells.

 

“You shrunk!” Bucky repeats, laughing with relief. “You’re not dead, you’re just tiny!”

 

“And freezing!” Steve shouts at him. “What is this thing cooled with, liquid nitrogen?”

 

Bucky cups Steve to his chest again and grabs the T-shirt from the ground. He drapes it over Steve’s tiny shoulders, then carefully swaddles him with it.

 

“I think I might be sick,” Steve adds then.

 

“Here!” Bucky says, putting Steve back down on the glass.

 

Steve pulls the fabric away from him and does, indeed, vomit a tiny puddle. Bucky hovers anxiously over him.

 

“Good news,” Stark says, “this is reversible.”

 

“Okay,” Bucky just says numbly.

 

“Bad news,” Stark continues, “you have to wait a couple of days because Pym says his biology might not be happy about being so drastically altered again so soon.”

 

“Doesn’t Scott shrink and unshrink several times within the space of minutes?” Romanoff counters.

 

“Yes,” Stark says, “but this is old tech and probably wasn’t made for human use. Pym’s on his way out here, he’s gonna take a look at this thing, and in a couple of days, he can unshrink your boy toy, Barnes.”

 

Steve wipes his tiny mouth with his tiny hand. “I can’t understand anything they’re saying,” he says.

 

Bucky picks Steve up again more carefully, moving much more slowly. “There’s a way to reverse this, but we gotta wait so it doesn’t make you sick.”

 

“Okay,” Steve says, then pulls the fabric of the T-shirt around him and slumps in Bucky’s palm. “After my nap.”

 

“Alright,” Bucky mutters.

 

Steve starts to snore at a barely audible rate. Bucky blinks stupidly.

 

“Uh, what’s that?” Stark asks, pointing to Steve’s pile of clothes.

 

Bucky looks; Steve’s chastity belt, complete with the cage and plug, are on clear display. Bucky tucks Steve against his chest and quickly gathers up Steve’s stuff and bundles it up in his pants.

 

“None of your business,” Bucky says. “I’m taking him home, can Pym reverse whatever this was from there?”

 

“Yep,” Stark replies. “Did you leave your boy toy wearing a butt plug, Barnes?”

 

Pietro starts sniggering. Bucky glares at them all.

 

“I don’t wanna hear from any of you until Pym’s ready to unshrink Steve,” he announces.

 

“And then after that,” Romanoff replies, raising her eyebrows and smirking, “perhaps you could bring your sub over for a playdate with Clint.”

 

“What?” Stark gasps in a high-pitched voice.

 

“I’m leaving,” Bucky insists.

 

“You have good taste in collars!” Wanda calls as Bucky leaves.

 

*

 

Bucky takes a cab back to Brooklyn. By the time he gets home, Steve’s woken up and is hiding in the breast pocket of Bucky’s shirt. Bucky grabbed a plastic bag from a bodega and Steve’s clothes and everything else are stuffed inside, but he’s forced to carry his shield out in the open. The cab driver gives him a discount, at the very least.

 

Their building is no longer on fire and surrounded by sirens. The front of the building is blackened, but there’s a crowd outside and pedestrians are just carrying on with their days. Bucky heads cautiously inside.

 

The burly cop that had been directing the scene is still there, sitting in the lobby with all of Bucky’s neighbors. Mrs. Rhinehart jumps to her feet; Ginger wails as she does.

 

“Where’s Steve?” she demands.

 

“Uh,” Bucky says, stopping in his tracks. “It’s complicated.”

 

Mrs. Rhinehart drops Ginger and claps her hands over her mouth. Ginger yowls and streaks out of sight.

 

“He’s fine!” Bucky says quickly. “Uh, the people who did this, Officier, they’re in an old fishery in Staten Island, place is called Bowmen’s.”

 

“Oh,” the cop says. “Uh, well, I was just sayin’ we think it was arson. Fire started in your place, somebody dumped gasoline everywhere.”

 

“Yeah, figures,” Bucky grumbles. “They weren’t too smart, I left Iron Man at the scene, he’s probably taking the machine with him.”

 

“What machine?” Ms. Vanessa asks.

 

“They shrunk Steve,” Bucky admits. “He’s fine, he’s just tiny.”

 

“Oh,” Mrs. Rhinehart says.

 

Bucky points to his pocket; the lump that is Steve, curled up into a ball, is clearly visible. “Yeah,” he says. “Is the place still habitable?”

 

“Oh, sure,” the cop answers, “your place is kinda a mess, Cap, but the building’s fine. Kinda sooty. We hauled out the wreckage already.”

 

“Fine,” Bucky says. “My dog –”

 

Ms. Vanessa stands up and picks up Parmesan from under her chair. She grabs Bucky’s cart of groceries, too, and walks both to Bucky.

 

“I’ll find Ginger and bring her up,” she offers, looking at Bucky’s pocket. “Is Steve –”

 

“He’s fine,” Bucky insists again. “We’re – We’re gonna lie low for a while.”

 

“Sure,” Ms. Vanessa says faintly.

 

Bucky clicks his tongue at Parmesan, who looks relieved to see him. He puts the bag of Steve’s stuff in the cart, then picks up the dog and tucks him under his arm, grabbing the car with his free hand. He heads up the stairs, walking slowly.

 

Their front door’s been removed, as have the melted remains of their shoes. Beyond that, the fire didn’t get very far inside the place. Bucky puts Parmesan down and the dog runs for his bed under the kitchen table right away. Bucky parks the cart by the fridge, then carefully reaches into his pocket and picks Steve up.

 

“Hey!” Steve shouts, clinging to Bucky’s fingers. “I can walk, yannow!”

 

“Sorry,” Bucky says, putting Steve down on the table. “Are you – Are you okay?”

 

Steve drops onto his ass and blinks. Bucky kneels down, getting at eye level with him, and just blinks back at him. Steve sticks out his lower lip.

 

“Would’a been nice if my stuff shrank with me,” he grumbles, covering his now definitely miniscule dick with a hand.

 

“I know,” Bucky says gently. “Did they – Did they _hurt_ you, sweetheart?”

 

“No,” Steve says, then he smiles wryly. “I don’t know if they wanted to, but they couldn’t – yannow, touch me… With the belt…”

 

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” Bucky says.

 

“Ah-ah-ah!” Steve cuts him off, raising a stern finger at him. “Don’t you look at me and think that this is all your fault, James Buchanan Barnes, because if you do, I will crawl inside your ass and poke holes in your prostate!”

 

Bucky blinks.

 

“Hey, that’s actually a good idea,” Steve muses.

 

“Steve,” Bucky says quickly, “you gotta be weirded out as fuck, let’s not put sex on the table right now –”

 

“Just because I’m tiny doesn’t mean I’m not a slut!” Steve whines.

 

“Can we take a breath first?” Bucky asks.

 

Steve inhales deeply, then falls onto his back and lies spread-eagle on the table. Bucky stands up and looks down at him. He’s definitely still in shock and he’s positive Steve is, too.

 

“I’m gonna give you a bath,” Bucky decides.

 

“I’m a little small for the bathtub,” Steve grumbles.

 

Bucky turns around, opens a cupboard, and takes out a soup mug. He puts it down on the table and Steve sits up to look at it.

 

“There,” Bucky says.

 

“I can’t take a bath in a mug!” Steve says.

 

“Why not?” Bucky asks.

 

Steve’s tiny face is aghast. Bucky crouches down and gently touches a finger to Steve’s chest. Steve grabs it and hugs it, pulling Bucky’s knuckle to his cheek.

 

“Let’s just try to go about our day normally,” Bucky says quietly. “We’ll – We’ll watch movies, it’ll be a huge screen for you, doll.”

 

Steve nods a little, looking weary.

 

“An’ when you’re back to normal,” Bucky continues, “we’ll go to some therapy, alright?”

 

“They didn’t hurt me,” Steve mumbles. “They knocked me out with somethin’ in a bunch’a roses an’ I woke up in that place, on the platform.”

 

“That’s a relief,” Bucky answers, then frowns. “Roses?”

 

Steve nods, looking embarrassed. “This guy knocked on the door and he had flowers. I opened the door.”

 

“Hey,” Bucky says gently, “it’s alright, I’ve sent you flowers like that before, it’s not your fault.”

 

Steve nods again.

 

“I’m definitely not sending you flowers like that again,” Bucky says. “And they had to get in past all the security somehow, just ‘cause you opened the door for ‘em, doesn’t mean they wouldn’t’a tried another way.”

 

“Okay,” Steve says quietly, so quietly, Bucky can barely hear him.

 

“Lemme get you some warm water and soap,” Bucky says. “You get cleaned up and we’ll go sit down, relax.”

 

Steve nods once. Bucky brushes his fingers over Steve’s head, touching him as if he were a house of paper cards, and pulls back just as quickly.

 

“I’m so sorry this happened,” Bucky says quietly.

 

Steve nods again. “I’m sorry I opened the door,” he mumbles.

 

“When this is over,” Bucky adds, “how would you feel about moving out of New York?”

 

Steve looks up, his eyes huge. “Leave?” he says.

 

“Someplace more defensible,” Bucky tries, “without as much foot traffic to have to factor in, where it’d be harder to get around the security.”

 

“I’ve never left New York,” Steve says in a voice as small as he is. “I’ve never even been to Jersey.”

 

Bucky falters. He doesn’t know what to say.

 

Steve pushes to his feet and leans on the side of the mug, looking down into it. Bucky rests his hands on the edge of the table, looking at him.

 

“I guess someplace with a yard might be nice,” Steve says flatly. “Parm could run around on his own.”

 

Bucky feels terrible for suggesting it, but he doesn’t feel safe in this place anymore. He’d bought the top floor apartment under an alias, and still, his enemies had found him. He doesn’t feel right letting the most precious thing in the world stay in a place that’s compromised like this.

 

“We’ll talk about it,” Bucky says quietly.

 

Steve nods a little. Bucky pushes up and walks over to the counter.

 

He turns on the electric kettle, figuring he can heat up water in it and then add cold water until it’s a comfortable temperature. He feels awful, but he leaves the kitchen to get some soap from the bathroom; hypoallergenic bubble bath and body wash, good stuff that won’t irritate Steve’s sensitive skin. He grabs a couple of washcloths, too. He finds Steve crouching by the mug, hugging himself again, and the kettle bubbling.

 

“Fuck, you gotta be freezing,” Bucky says, dropping everything on the table and shaking out one of the washcloths. “Here.”

 

Bucky carefully drapes the cloth over Steve’s shoulders. Steve takes it and pulls it around his body, almost dwarfed by the small square of fabric. He draws his shoulders in and his gaze is lowered. Bucky folds his hands around him, not quite touching him, but close.

 

“Doll?” he questions.

 

“‘M okay,” Steve insists.

 

“No, you’re not,” Bucky answers. “But I’m gonna take care of you, honey, I promise.”

 

Steve touches the inside of Bucky’s palm, then looks up and smiles at him. Bucky leans in close and slowly, carefully, he touches his lips to Steve’s head.

 

Steve touches his face as Bucky pulls back a little. Bucky holds there, cupping Steve’s tiny body with a hand. Steve presses his lips to Bucky’s nose and Bucky barely feels the touch.

 

“I’ll get the water,” Bucky says quietly.

 

Steve nods. Bucky pulls back, moving slowly until he’s out of reach of Steve, and switches off the electric kettle. He takes it off the base, then grabs a measuring cup and fills that with cold water from the tap. He takes them both to the table, pours some of the hot water into the mug, then adds cold.

 

“Give it a touch,” Bucky tells Steve.

 

Steve steps up to the mug and pokes a finger into the water, yanking it out. “Too cold,” he says.

 

Bucky adds a little more hot water. Steve touches it again, then nods. Bucky puts the measuring cup and kettle aside, then pulls out a chair and sits down. Steve lowers the washcloth, then stands at the side of the mug and looks down in as Bucky adds bubble bath for him and mixes it up.

 

“You didn’t need to add that,” Steve says.

 

“Lemme pamper you,” Bucky insists. “Just ‘cause you’s small, don’t mean you don’t deserve nice things.”

 

Steve smiles at Bucky. Bucky swishes his finger in the water for a moment longer, then pulls back and dries it on the other washcloth. Steve peers into the bubbles for a moment.

 

“Could you –” Steve starts, looking up at Bucky.

 

Bucky offers his finger to Steve. Steve grabs onto it, hugs it, then nods. Bucky lifts him slowly, very very carefully, moves him over the mug, and puts him back down. Steve grabs onto the sides of the mug, looking a little flushed for the encounter.

 

“Maybe I should actually pick you up?” Bucky suggests.

 

“We’ll see,” Steve mumbles, sinking into the bubbles.

 

Bucky folds his arms onto the table and leans on it, watching Steve slowly start to unwind. Steve dunks himself a few times, then just leans on the sides of the mug, exhaling heavily.

 

“Shampoo?” Bucky asks.

 

“Sure,” Steve says.

 

Bucky picks up the bottle and uncaps it. Steve holds out his hands and Bucky upends the bottle over them; a small blurt of shampoo falls into Steve’s hands, completely spilling over the sides, and Bucky quickly rights the bottle. Steve laughs a little.

 

“I’m _tiny,_ ” he says.

 

“You’re tiny,” Bucky confirms.

 

Steve plops the shampoo into his hair and starts scrubbing. “D’you reckon I’m shorter than Parm?”

 

“You’re shorter than Parm,” Bucky says.

 

“Shit,” Steve mutters.

 

Bucky drops his chin onto his arms. Steve scrubs at his hair for a while, then sinks back into the water and drops his head back to rinse the soap out.

 

“How long do I gotta be tiny?” Steve asks.

 

“Pym reckons a couple’a days,” Bucky says. “So you don’t get real sick when you unshrink, ‘cause the thing they used to shrink you probably wasn’t meant for humans, wasn’t so nice on you.”

 

Steve nods his head in the water. Bucky tips his head onto his cheek.

 

“Who’s Pym?” Steve asks then.

 

Bucky smiles. “Guy who made the Ant-Man suit,” Bucky says. “Specializes in shrinking tech.”

 

“Ah,” Steve says. “Nice to have a specialist for these kinda things.”

 

Bucky laughs softly. He reaches up and sticks his fingers in the water; Steve lifts his head, noticing, then floats over and wraps his arms around Bucky’s finger.

 

“I don’t like being empty, Buck,” Steve says quietly.

 

“I know,” Bucky murmurs. “I’m so sorry this happened.”

 

Steve shrugs and nuzzles his cheek on Bucky’s finger. He presses a kiss to Bucky’s knuckle, then sinks back into the water. Bucky rests his cheek on his hand and just watches him.

 

“I’m tired,” Steve says a while later, pushing up from the water and yawning. “I wanna nap.”

 

“Alright,” Bucky says, picking up his head and the washcloth. “You wanna nap with the TV on or music?”

 

Steve yawns again and shrugs. “Wanna nap with you,” he says.

 

“Alright,” Bucky agrees. “We’ll sit in the living room, alright? Lie down on the couch and you can sit on my chest so I can do some stuff on my tablet while you sleep.”

 

Steve nods. Bucky reaches into the mug with both hands and lifts Steve out carefully, picking him up around the torso. He puts Steve back down on the washcloth, then grabs the other one and wraps it around Steve’s shoulders.

 

“Guess I don’t got anything to wear,” Steve muses.

 

“No,” Bucky realizes. “You wanna keep that?”

 

Steve nods. Bucky picks Steve up, bundled in the cloth, and holds him against his chest. He walks out to the living room, sits down on the sofa, and picks up his tablet and the TV remote.

 

Steve tugs on his shirt. “Take this off?” he asks.

 

“Sure,” Bucky says right away, putting Steve down on the coffee table.

 

Steve huddles in the cloth while Bucky pulls his shirt off. He yawns again and Bucky lies back on the sofa, puts his tablet and the remote on the floor, then carefully picks Steve up again and puts him on his chest. Steve stretches out, adjusts the washcloth, and pillows his head on Bucky’s left breast.

 

“Could you hold me?” Steve asks in a soft voice.

 

Bucky lays a hand over Steve. “Like this?”

 

“Uh-huh,” Steve says, yawning another time. “Nap.”

 

“You nap, baby,” Bucky answers, “I’ll be right here, keep you safe.”

 

Steve’s breathing slows and he goes still. Bucky leaves his hand over Steve for a while, just watching him, then picks up his tablet.

 

Steve doesn’t have anything to wear, nor does he have anything for his size. Bucky unlocks his tablet and opens the Amazon app; he can fix this.

 

*

 

With overnight shipping, the stuff is piled up at their mailbox downstairs the next morning. Steve sleeps on a pillow on Bucky’s nightstand that night, and around 7 when Bucky gets tired of lying still in bed for the whole night not being able to sleep, he gets up and heads downstairs. Most of it is there, and Bucky does have to admit looking at the stack of boxes, maybe he went a little overboard.

 

But he takes it back upstairs. Steve is still asleep when Bucky checks on him, so he goes back into the living room and unpacks the boxes. And looking at everything spread out, and that it isn’t even all of it, Bucky can consider that maybe he’d bought too much stuff.

 

He’s bought, first, a dollhouse for Steve. He got one that was big enough that Steve would be able to stand up in it at about 10 inches tall; the house is a little over 4 feet tall with 4 levels. It’s fully furnished and part of the 4th level is actually a patio with a pool. Steve would have a pool. They don’t even have a regular pool in their regular house; they go to the Y if they want to swim, on the off-chance Bucky felt safe that there wouldn’t be random snipers waiting in the air vents for them. Bucky sets it up and, on a whim, actually puts water in the pool.

 

“This is fucking bougie,” Bucky grumbles to himself, but he bought it, so it’s his fault.

 

The rest of the boxes are everything Bucky could find that would be miniaturized for his tiny dollbaby. Some of it looks the wrong size, too big or too small, so Bucky figures Steve will just pick and choose what he wants. And in general, Steve will probably scold Bucky for buying _anything_ let alone half of the stuff. Most of it’s clothes, some of it’s just random doll accessories. Bucky picks up an inflatable couch and looks at it in general confusion. What did he even buy it for?

 

Bucky leaves the doll stuff in the living room and heads into the kitchen to start on breakfast. He makes coffee automatically before even considering that maybe caffeine might not be great for someone who’s 10 inches tall.

 

Bucky ends up making waffles, because Steve likes them, and maybe he could tear them up into tiny pieces? He’s not really sure how much Steve will want to eat if his stomach’s been shrunk by whatever percent. But he makes waffles anyway, adds chocolate chips, and digs through the pantry for maple syrup.

 

And then:

 

“Bucky!”

 

Bucky drops what he’s doing and runs out of the kitchen, back into the bedroom. Steve’s sitting up on his makeshift bed, looking over the edge of the nightstand looking pale.

 

“I don’t like heights,” Steve announces.

 

“Aw, dolly,” Bucky says quickly, rushing forward to kneel down in front of the nightstand. “C’mere, baby.”

 

Steve slips off the pillow, keeping ahold of his makeshift-blanket, and holds his hands out. Bucky carefully wraps his hands around Steve’s middle and lifts him, quickly tucking him into his elbow. Steve throws his hands up again, pouting, and Bucky lifts him up towards his neck. Steve grabs onto Bucky’s beard and curls up against his neck.

 

“You alright, doll?” Bucky asks.

 

Steve makes a noncommittal sound, but he’s still pouting.

 

“Aw,” Bucky says, sitting down on the bed and cupping Steve’s tiny body against his neck. “Dollface, you don’t look so great. You need a day off, baby?”

 

“Thought I’d wake up an’ all this would be a dream,” Steve mumbles. “I’d wake up an’ be normal still.”

 

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” Bucky says. “This is all my fault –”

 

“Shhh!” Steve snaps, quickly straddling Bucky’s shoulder to look up at him and glare. “Don’t you go lumping blame on your gorgeous shoulders, because I _will_ crawl up your ass and make you regret it!”

 

Bucky lets out a weak laugh. “I believe you,” he says, then falls quiet. He lifts Steve off his shoulder and holds him up to his face instead, both marveling and lamenting how Steve fits into the palm of his hand. “But if you’d never met me…”

 

Steve puts his hands on Bucky’s cheeks; they’re so small and give so little pressure, Bucky hardly feels them. Steve touches his face and reaches up to brush a lock of hair out of his eyes, looking sweetly at him.

 

“I would never have the amazing boyfriend I have now,” Steve says gently. “And you’re worth a scare or two, Buck, you are.”

 

Bucky brushes a thumb across the side of Steve’s face, smiling as best he can. Steve slips down his wrist and gets close to his neck again, holding onto his beard and hiding near the edge of his jaw.

 

“But I don’t wanna be a person today,” Steve says quietly.

 

Bucky covers Steve with a hand. “Then you don’t gotta,” he answers. “I’ll take care of my sweet pet, just like I always do.”

 

He can feel Steve smiling. Bucky gets up again, holding Steve to him carefully, and leaves the bedroom for the kitchen again. The waffles are already made, sitting in the oven to stay warm, and the microwave is reminding him to take out his food, as Bucky had stuck some bacon in earlier. Bucky grabs Steve’s cushion from the floor and puts it on the table instead, then carefully lifts and lowers Steve into it. Steve immediately curls up and wraps the washcloth around him, wiggling his toes.

 

“I got a plan,” Bucky announces. “And it starts with breakfast, puppy.”

 

Steve grins up at him. Bucky reaches down and brushes a thumb over Steve’s head with a soft smile, then turns and starts putting together their breakfast. He plates waffles, the bacon, and gets a peach from the fruit basket hanging over the sink, cutting it into thin slices. He takes everything to the table and sits; he just has the one plate, because of course, puppies don’t need to have their own plate.

 

“Chocolate chip waffles,” Bucky says, pouring syrup into a bowl on the side rather than over the waffles, so it’s less messy for Steve to work with his hands. “You hungry, pup?”

 

Steve pushes up and nods, edging nearer. Bucky tears off a little bit of the waffle, then tears it again, dips it into the syrup for a second, then holds it out. Steve leans in and bites off the bit of waffle, a piece no bigger than Bucky’s thumb and still almost as big as Steve’s head.

 

“After breakfast,” Bucky starts to think aloud, “I think there’s a good puppy in this house that deserves a treat. Do you think so, sweetheart?”

 

Steve nods quickly, chewing still. Not that he’d actually have to answer Bucky aloud; puppies don’t talk.

 

“I’ll find a way to tie you down, doll,” Bucky says. “Then I’ll play with you for however long I like, then we’ll curl up together and relax the rest of the day. How’s that sound, pup?”

 

Steve nods again, grinning. Bucky holds the bit of waffle to him again and Steve bites off more. After that, Steve takes what’s left from Bucky’s hand and starts to nibble on it. Bucky breaks up some bacon and puts it on the edge of his plate, right next to Steve’s cushion.

 

“Eat up,” Bucky reminds him. “Sweet lil’ thing like you deserves a nice, full belly.”

 

Steve smiles and scrunches down in his nest, cuddling up to his washcloth. Any other day, Bucky would be feeding Steve by hand from the floor, or from his lap, but this way would have to do. At least Steve was bundled up nice, done up soft and wrapped up in his nest.

 

“Cute lil’ thing,” Bucky says in a soft voice, reaching out to touch Steve’s head. “Eat up.”

 

Steve blushes and ducks his head, obeying. They're quiet during breakfast; Steve doesn’t talk at all, since pets can’t. Bucky praises and compliments him, encourages him, and so on and so on, and Steve ends up eating about a centimeter’s worth of bacon and two very small chunks of waffle before he’s had enough. He curls up under his washcloth and rests his head on the edge of his cushion, just looking at Bucky with a smile on his face.

 

Bucky finishes his meal and takes care of the dishes, putting them in the sink and covering them with water. Then he moves over to the cupboard, reaches up, and takes down a handful of Hershey bars.

 

“I got a nice idea, doll,” Bucky continues. “Involves tyin’ you down an’ gettin’ you a special kinda messy. You up for that?”

 

Bucky turns back and leans on the table. Steve looks up at him with a smile and just nods. It’s all that’s necessary.

 

Bucky walks out of the kitchen to get some floss from the bathroom and on the way back, grabs a corkboard and pushpins from the office. He walks back into the kitchen, puts down his items, and grabs wax paper from under the sink. Then he strips the chocolate bars from their wrappers and lays them out; six in total, one after the other. He turns around again and opens up the fridge, taking out a bottle of Hershey’s syrup to complement the bars. This is an idea he’s had for a while, and they may as well take advantage of the situation; Bucky could never have thought of tying Steve to chocolate bars themselves if he hadn't been barely taller than one.

 

Bucky covers the corkboard in wax paper, then uses the push pins to hold it in place. He puts the chocolate bars on the wax paper, then starts pulling out the floss.

 

“C’mere, boy,” Bucky says.

 

Steve pushes up from his nest and takes slow steps to Bucky’s set up. Bucky wraps floss around his fingers and points to the chocolate bars.

 

“Lay down,” he says.

 

Steve drops his washcloth and walks the lengths of the chocolate bars, then sits down in the center of them and lies down, lying his arms beside him. Bucky takes more push pins and puts them around the edges of the candy bars; 4 on each side, spaced evenly. Then he takes the floss and starts wrapping it around the pins, crisscrossing it across Steve’s body. The floss is about level with the chocolate, so it strains over Steve, quite properly holding him down.

 

“You remember _Gulliver’s Travels,_  don’t you, puppy?” Bucky asks. “I read it to you a while back. This familiar?”

 

Steve gives a nod. Bucky reaches the end of the chocolate and the pins, then goes back up. He ties it off and leaves the end slack, cutting it from the case. He tosses the floss aside, then sits down in front of Steve.

 

“There now,” Bucky says in a quiet voice. “Sweet little pets like you deserve sweet beds and bindings.”

 

Steve hums softly as Bucky carefully pulls the covered corkboard and Steve closer to him. With a careful finger, Bucky traces a small shape across Steve’s stomach, rising and falling with his breath. Steve sucks in another, sharper inhale and Bucky smiles at him.

 

“Alright, puppy,” he says softly, “I’m going to play with you now.”

 

Bucky picks up the bottle of chocolate syrup and pops the cap. He turns it over and carefully drizzles a line down Steve’s leg. Steve squirms against the floss and Bucky leans down, licking up the chocolate in the opposite direction. Steve lets out a whine and Bucky makes sure to dip his tongue inside Steve’s legs to just barely brush against his groin; Steve whines again, louder.

 

“Good boy,” Bucky murmurs with a smile.

 

He pours and licks up the chocolate. Steve twists under the floss and with every passing second, the chocolate under him melts. Bucky licks over Steve’s nipples, inner thighs, his sensitive stomach, but steers clear of his cock and between his asscheeks. Steve squirms, getting chocolate everywhere, and Bucky works his tongue to clean it up as it melts.

 

“Good boy,” Bucky purrs to him, “such a good little pet, dollbaby.”

 

Steve sighs, whines, and as Bucky continues to dirty him and lick it up, he starts to go limp. Soon, he stops straining against the floss. He lies still, his face relaxed and his muscles limp.

 

Bucky removes the pins, releasing Steve from the floss. Steve hardly notices. Bucky gets up, gets out a bowl, and turns on the electric kettle. Steve’s bubble bath and shampoo are still in the kitchen and Bucky adds soap to the bottom of the bowl, then a little bit of cold water while the kettle warms up. He gets a second washcloth and sticks it under the tap, turning on hot water. The kettle boils and Bucky adds it to the bowl, keeping a finger in the water to gauge the temperature.

 

When the bowl is full, Bucky goes back to the table with it and the warm cloth. He puts them down, then brushes at Steve’s hair. Steve opens his eyes and looks up at him with a soft smile. Bucky slips a hand under Steve’s head and under his back and lifts him from the sticky bed of chocolate. Steve opens his eyes and smiles and Bucky returns it. He takes the wet cloth and starts to clean the chocolate from Steve’s skin. Steve grins lazily as Bucky cleans him up, then giggles when Bucky bends down and kisses his hair.

 

“You’re a good little pet, boy,” Bucky murmurs, “just like you always are.”

 

Bucky lifts Steve into the bowl of warm, soapy water. Steve immediately sinks down, sticking out his fingers and toes. Bucky grabs a spoon and uses it to scoop up water, then pours it over Steve’s hair. He grabs the shampoo and pours a drop onto Steve’s head. Bucky uses two fingers to soap up Steve’s hair, washing away the traces of chocolate.

 

“There now, puppy,” Bucky says, “do you feel better?”

 

Steve gives a nod and squirms in the water, making it slosh up the sides. Bucky smiles down at him, then finishes washing his hair. He uses the spoon again to pour water over his head and Steve sinks deeper into the water, closing his eyes. Bucky leans his head onto a hand, putting his elbow on the table, and smiles at Steve.

 

“We’ll set up in the living room again and relax,” Bucky says. “How’s that sound, puppy?”

 

Steve grins. Bucky bends and presses a soft kiss to Steve’s wet hair, then puts his chin back on his hand and watches Steve play around in the water.

 

*

 

On the third day, Stark messages Bucky to tell him that Pym would be stopping by that morning to reverse the transformation on Steve. Steve slept in the new doll bed the night before, wearing a loose Barbie dress as a nightshirt. Bucky didn’t sleep much; he rarely does. He watches Steve during the night, making sure he sleeps evenly and comfortably. He tosses and turns a few times and each time, Bucky reaches over and just brushes a finger over his hair or his arm and Steve relaxes.

 

Bucky wants nothing more than to take care of him.

 

During the night, he does some more thinking. He doesn’t want to ask Steve to leave New York, not anymore. But he needs to keep Steve safe. Staying in a place his enemies know about is certainly a terrible idea, so he knows they can’t stay where they are. There are other options within New York. There’s one in particular that Bucky _knows_ would be safer than all others. His pride, however, is reluctant to consider it.

 

As morning nears, Bucky gets out of bed. He cleans up the apartment, then, almost in a daze, he finds the boxes from their moving in and starts to fill them again.

 

Around eight, Bucky checks on Steve again. He’s still asleep, but Bucky’s stomach is grumbling, so he starts to cook. Stark and Pym would arrive around nine o’clock; in the meantime, Bucky makes coffee and eggs.

 

He hears the buzzer for downstairs going off. Bucky turns the stove off and goes to answer it.

 

_“It’s us,”_ Stark calls, _“let us in.”_

 

Bucky buzzes them in. He waits in the hallway and after a few moments, Stark and Dr. Pym come out of the stairwell. Pym is dragging a suitcase along behind him.

 

“He’s still asleep,” Bucky says in greeting. “But I’ll wake him up.”

 

“I heard that his personal effects did not shrink with him,” Pym answers as Bucky waves them inside.

 

“No,” Bucky agrees. “We’ve made do over the past couple of days, though. In here.”

 

He takes them through to the living room and Pym lifts his suitcase onto the coffee table, opening it.

 

“This won’t take long,” he says. “Would you bring your partner out?”

 

Bucky nods and goes back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He sits down on the edge of the bed and touches Steve’s side gently.

 

“Hey, pet,” Bucky murmurs. “Time to get up.”

 

Steve groans and buries his face in his pillow. Bucky smiles, then gently scoops Steve up off the bed. Steve opens his eyes and pouts up at him.

 

“Time to get unshrunk,” Bucky says. “Ready?”

 

Steve looks much more appeased about getting up. He nods and sits up in Bucky’s hand, holding onto his wrist. Bucky carries Steve back out into the living room, where Pym is holding what looks like a high-tech energy weapon.

 

“Let’s put him on the floor,” Pym says. “I would recommend he be uncovered, but be ready with a blanket, Barnes.”

 

Bucky puts Steve on the floor and hesitates while Steve pulls off his doll clothes. Pym turns on his device; it hums and parts of it start to spin as the core begins to glow. Bucky grabs a blanket from the couch and kneels down right next to Steve, who’s still wrapped in his doll blanket.

 

“Ready?” Pym asks.

 

“Yeah,” Steve says.

 

“You can put aside the blanket,” Pym adds.

 

Bucky glances up and gives Stark a look. Stark raises his hands and turns around. Bucky drops his gaze again and Steve gingerly removes his blanket, handing it over. Bucky takes it and Steve wraps his arms around his knees, covering himself as best he can.

 

“Back away a little,” Pym tells Bucky.

 

Bucky pushes back, putting a foot or so between him and Steve. Pym raises his device, aims, and then presses a button to activate it. A beam of bright light shoots from the end, surrounds Steve, and then there’s another, even brighter flash that has Bucky covering his eyes. He hears Steve let out a gasp and he opens his eyes, blinking.

 

Steve is back to normal. Bucky quickly covers him with the full-size blanket, then wraps around him and holds on tight. Steve clutches to him, his hands digging into Bucky’s back.

 

“That’s that, then,” Pym announces.

 

“Thank you,” Steve says in a hoarse voice.

 

“Thank you,” Bucky echoes, looking up. “So much.”

 

Pym gives a nod, then powers down his device and starts disassembling it. Stark turns around and raises his eyebrows.

 

“So, when are you gonna replace the door?”

 

Bucky shrugs. “I actually had a favor to ask you,” he says reluctantly.

 

“Sure,” Stark says. “Hit me.”

 

“You got a free apartment in that tower of yours?” Bucky asks.

 

Stark laughs. “I think I could find the space for you. I’m assuming this is to take advantage of how brilliantly designed the security in my tower is and not because you suddenly like me.”

 

“I like you,” Bucky admits. “Sort of.”

 

Stark laughs again. “I’ll clear out a closet or two. And I’ll send a truck over with some robots to help you move. See you.”

 

Pym closes his suitcase. “Good to meet you, Mr. Rogers,” he says in Steve’s direction. “Another time, Barnes.”

 

Bucky nods to them. Stark walks Pym out, and then there’s quiet.

 

“I gotta puke,” Steve mutters.

 

“Here!” Bucky says hastily, scooping Steve up and ushering him to the bathroom.

 

Steve does throw up. Bucky gets a washcloth wet and pats the back of his neck and his forehead. When Steve falls away from the toilet, Bucky gets him a glass of water; Steve swishes it around in his mouth before spitting into the toilet. Bucky flushes it for him.

 

“So, you wanna move to Manhattan,” Steve mumbles.

 

“The tower’s the most secure place in New York,” Bucky says. “I should’ve asked you first –”

 

“No, it’s okay,” Steve interrupts. He smiles a little at Bucky, still looking pale, but happy. “The views will be incredible.”

 

Bucky grins. He presses a kiss to Steve’s forehead, then helps him stand and get to the sink to brush his teeth.

 

“My mouth feels disgusting,” Steve complains. “Next time I get shrunk, shrink a toothbrush for me, too.”

 

“Whatever you say, doll,” Bucky answers.

 

Bucky helps Steve out to the living room and puts him on the couch, then goes to get him tea and some crackers. He turns on the kettle, gets Saltines and tea bags from the cupboard, and a mug down from the cabinet. He heads back into the living room with the crackers. Steve is curled up on the couch in his blanket and he looks up as Bucky gets near. He raises his arms and Bucky puts the crackers on the coffee table to sit down on the edge of the sofa and pull Steve into a hug.

 

“Hey, puppy,” Bucky says softly. “You feel any better?”

 

Steve nods and presses his face into Bucky’s neck. Bucky kisses his hair.

 

“Your tummy upset still?” Bucky asks. “Anything else feel off?”

 

“Uh-uh,” Steve mumbles.

 

“You hungry?” Bucky adds.

 

“Mhmm,” Steve answers in a soft hum.

 

Bucky kisses Steve’s hair again, then helps him lean back and props him up against the arm of the couch. Steve hugs his knees to his chest, smiles at Bucky, and rests his head on the cushion. Bucky gets up and brushes a hand over Steve’s hair as he heads back into the kitchen.

 

Bucky puts a tea bag into a mug, then fills it with the hot water. He gets a plate down and dumps the eggs onto it, then grabs a fork, and takes everything back into the living room.

 

Bucky sits down on the sofa, puts the tea on the coffee table, and pats his lap. Steve crawls over right away, curling up against his side. Bucky scoops up some egg with the fork and holds it up to him. Steve eats it and Bucky kisses his forehead.

 

“Good boy, puppy,” he murmurs.

 

He feeds Steve, alternatively taking bites himself. Steve puts his head against Bucky’s shoulder when he’s had enough and Bucky eats the rest of it.

 

“You already started packing,” Steve says.

 

“Yeah,” Bucky answers. “We gotta get outta here as soon as we can, doll.”

 

Steve snuggles closer and nods. “Where’s Ginger?” he asks softly.

 

“Uh,” Bucky starts, looking around. “She’s around somewhere. Front door’s gone, so she might’ve wandered out or in, but she’s here.”

 

Steve nods again. “Parm’s okay?”

 

Bucky nods, looking over to the dog bed by the TV, where Parmesan is sprawled out and snoring softly. “Everyone’s fine.”

 

“Does Stark Tower take pets?” Steve asks.

 

“They’d better,” Bucky says. “Don’t worry about that, baby, if Stark fusses, I’ll just glare at ‘im ‘til he shuts up.”

 

Steve snorts. “Fine,” he agrees. “We should pack.”

 

Bucky puts the plate on the coffee table and wraps both arms around Steve. “In a minute,” he says, pressing his lips against Steve’s hair. “Haven’t been able t’a hold you for a while.”

 

He feels Steve smiling and Bucky hugs him a little tighter. Another thought comes to him, a very easy conclusion. He kisses Steve’s hair again, then rests his cheek against the top of his head.

 

“Doll,” Bucky murmurs, “what’d’you think about gettin’ married?”

 

Steve looks up at him, blinking slowly. “Huh?”

 

Bucky smiles at him and cups his chin. “Marry me,” he asks properly.

 

“Okay,” Steve says, then grins and laughs softly. “Yeah, yeah, let’s get married.”

 

“Courthouse ought’a be open,” Bucky says, getting excited. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

 

He gets up. Steve laughs and takes Bucky’s hands, letting him pull him up. Bucky lifts Steve off his feet completely and carries him into their room, putting him down on the bed to grab clothes. Steve’s grinning, covering his mouth with his hands.

 

“We gonna dress up?” Steve asks.

 

“Yeah!” Bucky decides, turning for the closet. “Yeah, we’re gonna wear suits.”

 

“Am I gonna wear my belt?” Steve asks.

 

Bucky looks back at him. Steve nods, still grinning. Bucky shrugs, grabs a suit for him and one for Steve, then turns back and gets Steve’s chastity belt from the nightstand. Steve gets off the bed, turns, and leans on it, arching his ass out. Bucky kneels behind him and kisses the backs of his thighs.

 

“My sweet boy,” he murmurs. “Gonna make you all mine now.”

 

It’s not difficult for Bucky to loosen Steve’s hole and put his plug in, it only takes a few minutes. He confines Steve’s cock in its cage, then puts on his belt and locks everything in place.

 

“Good boy,” Bucky says.

 

“Thank you, Bucky,” Steve exhales. “Thank you.”

 

Bucky stands and kisses Steve’s cheek. “Let’s get you dressed, c’mon.”

 

They get dressed in their Sunday best; though they don’t go to church. Bucky slicks back his hair into a ponytail and Steve rolls his eyes at him. They head downstairs and knock on Mrs. Rhinehart’s door.

 

“Hi,” Bucky says when she opens it, “Steve and I are going to City Hall to get married. Would you be a witness?”

 

“Oh, yes!” Mrs. Rhinehart gasps.

 

Ms. Vanessa has a similar reaction when they ask her. Both women cry. The four of them get into a taxi and head uptown. They stand in line for a long time, but Bucky doesn’t care about that.

 

They finally get seen. They fill out paperwork, wait some more, and then they’re passed along to a Justice of the Peace. In just a few short minutes, they’re declared husband and husband.

 

Bucky scoops Steve off his feet for their first kiss as husbands. Steve laughs and their neighbors cry some more. Bucky cries, too.

 

“Congratulations,” the officiator tells them. “Please move along, next!”

 

“Come on,” Bucky says with a grin, “we’re gonna get dinner.”

 

“Shall we leave you?” Ms. Vanessa asks.

 

“If you don’t mind,” Steve answers.

 

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Rhinehart tells them. “Congratulations, you two. You’ll have a very _wonderful_ life together, I know it.”

 

“We will,” Bucky says, holding Steve tight.

 

Their neighbors leave them on the steps outside. Bucky and Steve, in their best suits, go buy wedding bands and then they get burgers.

 

“We should probably get cake, too,” Steve says around a mouthful of fries.

 

“Not if you’re gonna smash it in my face, doll,” Bucky says.

 

“But that’s what you’re supposed to do!” Steve insists.

 

“That’s a waste of cake,” Bucky counters.

 

Steve pouts at him. After burgers, they get cake. Steve smashes some on Bucky’s face, then takes a picture of Bucky looking unamused and Steve grinning.

 

“That’s our wedding portrait,” Steve says happily.

 

Bucky grabs Steve in a firm hug and kisses him, getting frosting all over his face. Then he grabs Steve’s phone and takes another picture.

 

“There,” he says. “ _Those_ are our wedding portraits.”

 

Steve grins. Bucky kisses him, then cleans the frosting off both their faces.

 

They return home and find Ginger sitting on the kitchen counter, looking very disappointed in both of them. Parmesan, also in the kitchen, runs in circles and barks at them.

 

“I’ll feed them,” Bucky says, “go to the playroom, doll.”

 

Steve grins, hops onto his toes and grabs Bucky’s neck to pull him into a kiss, then he runs off excitedly. Bucky fills Parmesan’s bowl with kibble and cracks open a can of beef in gravy for Ginger.

 

“You’re both spoiled,” Bucky tells them.

 

He leaves the pets enjoying their dinner and follows Steve into the playroom. Steve’s already taken off his suit, undressed down to his chastity belt, because he’s a good boy, and he’s kneeling in the center of the room.

 

“God, you’re sweet,” Bucky says. “And you’re all mine, doll.”

 

Steve holds up his left hand, cupping it with his right, and grins. Bucky kneels down in front of him and takes his hand, pressing a kiss to the brand new wedding band.

 

“We’ll pack our stuff later,” Bucky tells Steve. “Right now, I wanna play with my sweet boy. That sound good to you?”

 

Steve nods quickly, still grinning. Bucky cups the back of his head and presses a kiss to his forehead, then gets up again and looks down at Steve fondly.

 

“I think I’d like to stretch out that pretty hole of yours,” Bucky says, “and play with it all day. Fuck you again and again, like you deserve. You want that?”

 

“Uh-huh,” Steve hums.

 

“Good,” Bucky says, brushing back Steve’s hair. “I’m going to put you on your back, tie you up. Stand up.”

 

Steve gets to his feet. Bucky pushes him back and Steve hastily backs up; Bucky pushes him onto a wide leather bench and Steve lies back, automatically raising his arms above his head and spreading his legs. Bucky walks across the room, picks up two bundles of rope, and Steve’s collar. He comes back and kneels on the bench near Steve’s head to buckle his collar around his neck. Steve smiles up at him and when he’s done, Bucky bends and presses a kiss to Steve’s throat, just above his collar. He shakes out the rope, then binds Steve’s wrists, tying them to the legs of the bench. He ties Steve’s ankles down as well, then stands in front of Steve to take off his clothes. Steve watches with an eager grin and Bucky returns it as he discards his clothes.

 

“Pretty little thing,” Bucky murmurs as he sets a knee on the bench. “And all mine.”

 

Steve strains against the ropes to lift his head. Bucky climbs over him and presses a kiss to his mouth, letting it linger. Then he gets up again and kisses down Steve’s body to his chastity belt. Steve pushes his hips up and out and Bucky nips at his inner thigh before taking the key from around his neck and releasing the locks keeping the belt, cage, and plug in place.

 

“I’m gonna make you come over and over,” Bucky purrs. “Would you like that, sweet doll?”

 

“Uh-huh,” Steve exhales happily.

 

Bucky slides the metal parts free of Steve’s body. He puts the belt and all its pieces aside, then ducks between Steve’s legs and licks firmly over his hole. Steve whines immediately, so Bucky does it again; and again, and keeps doing it, until Steve is thrashing against the ropes.

 

“Come whenever you need to,” Bucky tells him happily. “I wanna see you come undone, babydoll.”

 

Steve whines, gasps, he moans and cries out. Bucky works fingers into his hole and after brushing Steve’s prostate with a fingertip once, Steve goes rigid against the ropes with a loud gasp as he comes.

 

Bucky doesn’t give him any respite after that. To really ensure that he’ll be able to fuck Steve over and over, he puts on a cockring. He gets Steve thoroughly messy with lube, fucks him again and again, and when Steve is sobbing from the overstimulation, Bucky adds to the cockring a hollow strap-on to double his girth and increase his length, and then he keeps fucking Steve.

 

“My good boy,” Bucky purrs into Steve’s ear as often as it pops into his head.

 

After a few hours, Bucky finally removes the sheath and ring and fucks Steve one last time, until he finally comes. Steve is completely non-verbal when Bucky collapses on top of him, he just hums in happiness and pulls Bucky into several lazy kisses. They need to have lunch, to replace all the calories they’d just burned up, and Bucky wants to spend some time worshipping Steve’s wedding ring, but all that can wait. Bucky blankets Steve’s body with his own and kisses his neck, his jaw, his face, and his lips. Steve is slack beneath him, he shivers whenever Bucky kisses him, and he lets out soft noises of lasting pleasure.

 

Bucky presses his forehead against Steve’s, going still at last. Steve’s eyes are shut, his mouth open. He’s beautiful.

 

“I love you,” Bucky murmurs. “So fucking much, doll.”

 

Steve lifts his head and pecks Bucky’s lips with a gentle smile, his cheeks pink. He’s too deep in subspace to reply aloud, but he doesn’t need to. Bucky knows that sweet smile and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes mean _I love you, too._

 

Bucky kisses him again, just because he can. He reaches up at the same time and pulls free the ropes holding Steve’s hands in place. As soon as he does, Steve throws his arms around his neck, and that is as good of a binding as the ropes had been. Bucky would never pull away from Steve like this. Nothing could pull him away, not even moronic Hydra-wannabes.


	2. Guys and Dolls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _pheonix asked me to write a little bit more for this fic, so, here is more!_

#  _ Guys and Dolls _

  
  


Steve tries his best not to think about how the world around him is so uncannily foreign in its familiarity. The walls are all the same colors. The furniture hasn’t moved. The posters and art on the walls are the same. It’s his home, it’s been his home for two years now, he knows all of it. But even though he knows that  _ nothing _ has changed, nothing feels right. Everything feels wrong, everything is different, nothing feels like his home. The warm shade of yellow that was his living room is neon now, it’s burning, it drops him into this massive room, with massive furniture and huge weights that could fall on him at any time. Steve feels dropped into  _ The Yellow Wallpaper _ and the wraiths behind the cracks and bumps in the paint move with the grace of the fae and the ballet in how they stalk him and they seek to step on him.

 

Bucky is the only thing that doesn’t feel oppressive in his size and Steve still doesn’t want to think about it. He gives it a few passing thoughts, anyway. Bucky has always made Steve feel small, they have played with that sensation for over four years now, that Bucky is bigger and he can overpower him and physically crush him, that is something that Bucky has used to emotionally break Steve down and build him back up since they chose to embrace that kind of power play. And maybe that’s why being thrown into this drastic physical change, Steve is afraid of the yellow and blue walls, but not of Bucky’s vast hands and his barrel chest.

 

Because that’s how they have always been. Steve has always been this weak little fairy and Bucky has always been the forbidden, enchanted forest surrounding him. That feels safe to him when everything else doesn’t.

 

“What the fuck is this?” Steve demands.

 

Bucky gives him a non-committal gesture and a bemused noise. “It’s miniature stuff,” he claims.

 

Steve holds up a bright pink mermaid dress. “These are Barbie clothes.”

 

“And you’re the size of a Barbie!” Bucky claims.

 

“Have I  _ ever _ worn something this gaudy?” Steve asks.

 

“Well,” Bucky starts hesitantly.

 

Steve laughs and tosses the dress aside. It doesn’t feel like it would be very comfortable anyway. He picks through the box of clothes, eventually pulling out a stretchy, cable-knit tank top in verticle white and red stripes, and a long black skirt of the same material. The Barbie pants, for the most part, looked like they won’t fit him, but the stretchy material will probably be fine.

 

“I kinda just bought a bunch’a stuff,” Bucky says.

 

“It’s fine,” Steve insists, stepping into the skirt. “This fits fine.”

 

He pulls the skirt around his waist and settles it, then stands up, putting his hands on his hips. 

 

“Well?” he asks.

 

“You should dress like that more often,” Bucky says firmly.

 

Steve strikes a pose, holding a hand to his forehead and his hip dramatically. Bucky laughs and Steve drops the pose, shaking out the top. He pulls it on, then smoothes the clothes out, trying to get over the weird feeling of being fully clothed but not wearing any underwear. It wasn’t like Mattel made Barbie-sized lingerie; Bucky bought some bikini bottoms, which were almost underwear, but they didn’t really look very comfortable either.

 

“Well?” Bucky prompts.

 

“This is nice,” Steve says, nodding as he looks up. “I won’t be cold, at least.” 

 

“Oh, here!” Bucky adds, digging through the pile himself. “Here.”

 

He tugs out a pair of bright purple leg warmers. Steve looks at them, then bursts out laughing.

 

“They didn’t have any socks!” Bucky insists.

 

Steve drops onto the glass tabletop under him, landing on his hip, and holds his gut with his laughter. Bucky shakes his head and drops the leg warmers onto the table.

 

“This is fine,” Steve insists, hiccuping a little. “I don’t need leg warmers.”

 

“Well, you were cold a lot,” Bucky says, “I just wanted to be sure you were comfortable!”   
  


Steve pushes up and walks up to where Bucky’s leaning on the coffee table, his arms folded on the edge. He touches Bucky’s face, the corners of his smile, then leans against him, running his fingers through Bucky’s beard. Bucky cups his back, gently touching him.

 

“I’m okay,” Steve says. “I even have a pool.”

 

Bucky snorts. Steve pulls away from him and climbs off the table onto the dollhouse’s patio, pulling up his skirt to sit down on the edge of the plastic pool; perfectly sized for him. He looks up at Bucky and grins.

 

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Bucky admits.

 

“I love it,” Steve insists, kicking his feet a little in the room-temperature water. 

 

Bucky leans his elbow on the table and grins, watching Steve. Steve tugs his clothes back off, leaving them on the side of the pool, and hops in. 

 

“It’s fucking bougie,” Bucky says.

 

“Yeah, but it’s fun!” Steve insists, splashing a little.

 

Bucky laughs. Steve reaches for him and Bucky leans in to kiss his forehead with gentle lips.

 

“You’re cute, puppy,” Bucky murmurs.

 

Steve splashes him. Bucky jerks back, then snorts and flicks his fingers in the water to splash him back. Steve giggles and drops down to his knees in the water, getting in to his shoulders.

 

“You might be cute, but you’re also a brat,” Bucky says.

 

“Despite that, you love me,” Steve points out.

 

“I think that’s part of it,” Bucky says.

 

Steve grins cheesily, hugging his knees to his chest. Bucky flicks the water again, then pushes back and starts gathering up the doll clothes.

 

“I’ll just put these in a donation box or something,” Bucky says. 

 

“Some little girl’s gonna love them,” Steve adds.

 

Bucky shoots him a smile, dropping the frilly hems and pink bows into a box. Steve leans back in the water and dunks his head, shakes his hair out, then sits up again and turns onto his knees to wade over to the edge. Bucky grabs a washcloth and holds it out for him, and Steve smiles and takes it, climbing out of the plastic pool.

 

“I'm hungry," Steve announces. "You think the Barbie dishes will actually work for food?"

 

"No clue," Bucky says. "But we can try. What do you wanna eat?"

 

Steve hums, thinking. He sits down on a plastic patio lounger and hugs the fluffy washcloth around him. Bucky props his cheek on a hand and leans on the coffee table, smiling at him. Steve flushes, breaks into a grin, and pulls the washcloth around his face. Bucky grins back and sticks a finger out to poke his stomach. Steve laughs and bats it away. 

 

"You're cute," Bucky declares. 

 

Steve yanks the washcloth over his head, squeaking. Outside, he hears Bucky laughing and for a moment, he can pretend everything is normal. 

 

"How about Chinese?" Bucky suggests. "Noodles should be easy to cut up small."

 

"Okay," Steve says, muffled by the cloth.

 

Abruptly, he feels hands around him and he's being lifted. Steve yelps again and scrambles to grab onto something as Bucky scoops him up and cups him in his palms. Steve does his best to scowl at him, but Bucky just grins and squeezes him gently.

 

"I could eat you up," he says. "Are you warm enough? You wanna get dressed?"

 

Steve snuggles his washcloth closer, but nods. Bucky puts him down carefully on the coffee table, then hands him the clothes he'd picked out. Steve scrubs himself down one more time, then takes the skirt first and steps into it. Bucky gingerly opens up the tank top and Steve, grinning, sticks his arms up. Bucky pulls it over his head and settles the hem around his hips, then lightly rubs a finger in his hair.

 

"Cute?" Steve asks cheekily.

 

Bucky snorts. "Adorable," he confirms. "You always are, puppy."

 

Steve grins, then holds his arms out again. Bucky scoops him up one more time, then takes him close and cradles him against his chest. 

 

"You get comfy," Bucky tells him, "I'm gonna order food."

 

"Sir, yes, sir," Steve says, snuggling down happily. 

 

The food arrives after an hour, the delivery person ringing the bell from the entrance on the first floor. Parmesan barks his head off at the sound of the buzzer. Bucky puts Steve in his shirt pocket and shoos Parmesan into the office before going downstairs to get the food, and Steve just stays curled up in his pocket while Bucky signs the check and hands over a tip. When they're back upstairs, stepping over the baby gate blocking the empty front doorway to keep the dog inside (Ginger jumps the thing easily, but she always comes back for supper), Bucky lets Parmesan out again and lifts Steve out of his pocket in the kitchen. There's a miniature dining set on top of the full-size dining table, and Steve pulls out a chair and sits down at it. Bucky unpacks the takeout bag, then sniffs everything to check for off smells. Steve props his chin on both hands while he waits. Eventually, the food is deemed safe, and Bucky serves a portion of pork fried rice and lo mein onto a full-size plate, then cuts it up to transfer onto Steve's Barbie-plate.

 

"I think I still have to eat with my hands," Steve says as he takes his plate from Bucky. 

 

"Sorry," Bucky says, "you probably do have to."

 

"Don't worry about it," Steve answers, picking up a grain of rice and biting it in half. "It's still good."

 

Bucky gives him a smile as he sits. He reaches out and taps a finger against Steve's cheek. 

 

"Cute," he says. "My cute baby."

 

Steve grins and pops the rest of the rice grain into his mouth. Bucky smiles at him for a moment longer, then looks down and picks up his fork. 

 

Steve only finishes the rice, but it's still good. They eat in relative quiet, Parmesan occasionally clattering around the kitchen.

 

"We need to trim his nails," Steve comments.

 

Bucky hums in agreement.

 

Bucky takes Steve's plate after they finish. He washes it at the sink and puts the rest of the normal-sized cutlery and dishes in the dishwasher. Steve leans on his miniature dining table and watches him, ignoring the rest of the room. 

 

"You want a bath, puppy?" Bucky asks as he turns back, wiping his hands on a towel. 

 

"Not tonight," Steve says.

 

Bucky stops by the table and holds his hands out. Steve climbs into his palms and Bucky lifts him up slowly, tucking him against his chest. 

 

"Off to bed, then," he says, "tired puppies need their beauty sleep."

 

Steve giggles softly. Bucky bends his head and presses a kiss to his hair. 

 

"You wanna just swish with mouthwash?" Bucky asks as they enter their bedroom. 

 

"Uh-huh," Steve mumbles in answer. "Splash my face, too."

 

Bucky carries him to the bathroom and puts him down on the counter. Steve sits down on a jar of cotton balls while Bucky turns on the water so it'll warm up and pours a drop of mouthwash into a Barbie-sized cup. Steve takes it and swishes, gets up so Bucky can take out a cotton ball, and he rinses while Bucky wets the cotton for him. Steve cleans his face, then sits down again while Bucky brushes his teeth and washes his face as well. After, Steve sticks his hands out. Bucky picks him up and holds him against his stomach to head into their bedroom again.

Bucky puts Steve down onto the nightstand. A doll bed has been set up by the alarm clock, with a thick pillow for a mattress and squares of fleece for bedding. Steve pulls off the doll clothes and leaves them by the lamp, then, naked, climbs into his bed. Bucky sits down on their bed and leans on the nightstand to watch him. Steve tucks a tiny pillow under his head and Bucky tucks the fleece blanket around him. 

 

"I love you, babydoll," Bucky says softly. "Sweet dreams."

 

Steve smiles at him. "Love you, too, Buck," he answers. 

 

Bucky turns the lights off and covers the glow of the alarm clock with a cloth. Steve cuddles with his blanket and shuts his eyes. He hears Bucky changing out of his clothes, then getting in bed, then drifts off as Bucky's breathing goes slow and calming.

 

So, it's not difficult to push aside any discomfort or anxiety about this change. Bucky can easily cover him with a hand and that just as easily blocks out nasty emotions. 

**Author's Note:**

> _the second pheonix said she wanted me to write about a shrunken steve, i was dying to title it after "honey, we shrunk the kids." i've never seen that movie but i love the title. if you're interested in having me write something, message me on[tumblr](http://moonythejedi394.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/moonythejedi394)!_


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